212 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS chap. 



and plunges at once into the wild and extensive woods of 

 Dunearn and Fairness. The woods at Dunearn are particularly 

 picturesque, in consequence of the fir-trees (at least those near 

 the river) having been left rather farther apart than is usual ; and 

 no tree adds more to the beauty of scenery than the Scotch fir, 

 when it has room to spread out into its natural shape. The 

 purple heather, too, in these woods forms a rich and soft 

 groundwork to the picture. What spot in the world can excel 

 in beauty the landscape comprising the old Bridge of Dulsie, 

 spanning with its I'^fty arch the deep black pool, shut in by grey 

 and fantastic rocks, surmounted with the greenest of grass 

 swards, with clumps of the ancient weeping-birches with their 

 gnarled and twisted stems, backed again by the dark pine-trees ? 

 The river here forms a succession of very black and deep pools, 

 connected with each other by foaming and whirling falls and 

 currents, up which in the fine pure evenings you may see the 

 salmon making curious leaps. I shall never forget the impres- 

 sion this scenery made on me when I first saw it. The bridge 

 of the Dulsie, the dark-coloured river, and the lovely woodlands, 

 as I viewed them while stretched on the short green sward 

 above the rocks, formed a picture which will never be effaced 

 from my memory. I cannot conceive a more striking coup d'ceil, 

 or one more worthy of the pencil of an artist. On these rocks 

 are small flocks of long-horned, half-wild goats, whose appear- 

 ance, with their shaggy hair and long venerable beards, adds 

 much to the wildness of the scene. 



The blackcock and the roebuck now succeed the grouse and 

 red-deer. The former is frequently to be seen either sitting on 

 the trunk of a fallen birch-tree or feeding on the juniper-berries, 

 while the beautiful roebuck (the most perfect in its symmetry 

 of all deer) is seen either grazing on some grassy spot at the 

 water's edge, or wading through a shallow part of the river,, 

 looking round when half-way through as timid and coy as a 

 bathing nymph. When disturbed by the appearance of a 

 passer-by, he bounds lightly and easily up the steep bank of 

 the river, and after standing on the summit for a moment or 

 two to make out the extent of the danger, plunges into the 

 dark solitudes of the forest. 



On the left side of the river, as it proceeds towards the sea, 

 is a succession of most beautiful banks and heights, fringed with 



